Editorial

The Winner

After waiting for two minutes he decided to make for the breakfast room, but she pointed emphatically towards another area of the lobby where a staff member appeared and demanded his coat, presumably to hang it in a wardrobe. On the way to his table he passed the breakfast buffet, whose selection of fruit and fruit juices bore no relationship to the room prices. He ordered a freshly-squeezed orange juice, and for the 47th time this year it annoyed him to be presented with preserved orange juice instead, served up as if it were something precious. Angrily he drank a large glass of Coke.

When he left the hotel the receptionist barely looked up, but continued her conversation with a colleague about how fed-up she was with this job. He got into his car, found that the windows were dirty and swore loudly, then phoned his office by mobile to tell them that he would be late. His subordinate wanted to tell him something and began with "Listen to this …", which made him furrow his brow angrily, but he said nothing. Instead he switched on the radio: techno music.
A taxi-driver overtook him and made an obscene gesture in passing. He accelerated and followed the taxi all over town until it finally turned into an underground car park, where he stayed close behind it. The taxi-driver was well aware that he was being followed and communicated his disrespect by means of provocative and contemptuous signs and gestures. All the colour had drained from R's face – it was almost as white as his knuckles as he gripped the steering-wheel. When the taxi drove into a parking space he stopped his car right across its rear, blocking the exit. The taxi-driver got out gesticulating wildly, with his fists clenched and foaming at the mouth.
Just five more seconds to disaster, for R. was a professional martial arts instructor teaching WingTsun Kung Fu, one of the most dangerous and effective close combat styles of them all. In his adrenalin rush the furious taxi-driver had no idea what he was letting himself in for. At the last moment R. realised what a catastrophe was about to unfold: one word would lead to the next, one of them would grab the other, then elbow, knee, hand strikes … blood, broken bones, internal organs, back of the head hitting the concrete floor … ambulance, police, court case, compensation, invalidity pension, career in ruins. He remembered the advice of his Master: take a deep breath, lick your lips, take a mental step back from what is happening, see yourself as a witness and laugh at yourself. What am I doing here, fool that I am? Is it really worth it? Do I want to explain to my son one day that Dad spent five years in prison because he killed a taxi-driver who gave him a rude gesture? What did Si-Fu once say: if you take a swing at somebody because he has called you an idiot, then he's right!
R. engaged first gear, kissed his fingers at the taxi-driver and drove out of the underground car park whistling cheerfully. He was a winner. For he had woken up at the decisive moment and exercised his right of veto.

Yours sincerly

Keith R. Kernspecht 10th degree Grandmaster (Europe) Founder, Head and Chiefinstructor of EWTO